The Insanity of the Voices in the Well
by Elven Dreamer Child
Summary: -Complete- Combine a fic challenge, Monty Python, and a few Elves and this is what you get. When a couple of elf-lords and a ranger get stuck in a unique situation, can they prevail over extreme giggling fits, Glorfindel's singing, and a small green frog?


Author: Estelrond

Title: The Insanity of the Voices in the Well

Rating; G

Warning: This is a prime example of why one should not watch Monty Python whilst writing fanfic. Warnings include extreme silliness and insanity…

Disclaimer: Not mine, wish it was, isn't. And no, I do not know any Gondorian Kniggits.

This was written for the "friends in small places" Teitho challenge. Mellon Chronicles list.

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If one had happened to be walking in a particular area outside Imladris on this particular day, you might have noted that it was cool, breezy and an all around lovely fall day. And if you happened to stroll past one particular spot, you might have noticed what was once a small well. And if you had stopped to listen, you might have thought you'd finally discovered that "Voice in the Bottom of the Well" that people write stories about. Or perhaps they would have rewritten the tale, and added an 's' onto the word 'voice'.

"This is all your fault." Came the first, echoing strangely from the depths of the small rounded hole.

"I beg to differ." The second voice sounded decidedly slighted. "You fell in here first, if I remember."

"You were the one who saw something in the bottom of the well." The first voice came back, accusing this time.

"And you were the one who leaned over to far." Came the confident response.

The only reply to that was an irritated 'humph'.

For a while, there was nothing…

"How are we going to get out of here?" It was the second voice, which was slightly deeper than the first.

"I could try getting on your shoulders, but I don't think even YOU are that tall."

There came a derisive snort, "I see you have the utmost confidence in my abilities."

"No I don't, you overstuffed excuse for a warrior."

"You're always so nice." The second voice was rife with sarcasm.

There came a loud "Oof" from the bottom of the well, "That'll teach you to mock me. I'll have you know I'm a warrior as well."

"But I'm older than you are. Besides, I don't see you tromping off to go slay Balrogs." The voice was slightly strained, as if the speaker was having trouble breathing.

"Why does that always seem to come into every conversation?"

"Because it's the one point that no one will excuse as exaggeration. Now, if you would please be so kind as to get off me, or I'll add one overweight Peredhel to my kill tally."

"You're a fine one to talk. You're huge."

"It's all muscle. And I'll have you kn-" he was suddenly cut off as the other shushed him.

"Shhh…I think I hear someone coming."

As a matter of fact, someone was coming. A young Dunedain ranger who had absolutely rotten luck. He thought he had heard voices and had come to investigate. "Hello?" he called uncertainly, not really sure whether he had been imagining things or not.

"It's your son." Whispered voice number two. "Why aren't we answering him?"

"Because he IS my son, that's why and as my son he's also the twins' sibling. I'd rather be rescued by someone whom I can threaten into silence rather than someone who will tell it to the two persons that will be reminding me of this incident for every Valar-forsaken day of my immortal life." This was followed by a heavy sigh.

"Ah. I see your point."

The first voice was full of resignation, "I thought you might."

There was a lengthy pause, "You also realize that we might be throwing away our only chance to escape?"

Another sigh, even longer and more exaggerated than the first. "True."

"And the thought of starving to death in what is practically my own back yard doesn't exactly appeal to me."

"Speak for yourself, I'm far more likely to be bored to death by you. And by the way, I've been meaning to tell you this for a decade or so: YOU CANNOT SING!"

The ranger, who had been straining to hear the conversation, which he had nearly passed off as a figment of his imagination, heard quite clearly the last phrase spoken by the irate voice of what could only be the Lord of Imladris himself. Walking vaguely in the direction of where he was sure it came from, Estel's absolutely horrible luck concerning falling kicked in and he stumbled over the remains of the well and down the hole.

What he was astonished to find, is that instead of landing on hard stone and cracking his skull, he found that he had landed on something relatively soft, and which let out a resounding 'Oof!' as all air was forced from their lungs.

"Better me than you." Came voice number one. "You won't be able to sing with Estel on your chest."

Glorfindel stuck his tongue out. "I sing just fine." He groaned, pushing the human off of him.

Estel was quite bewildered, "What are you two doing down here?" His eyes were beginning to adjust to the comparative darkness and he was very surprised to discover that the "Voices in the Well" were none other than Lord Elrond and his seneschal Glorfindel!

"Well our most accomplished Balrog-Slayer here, thought he saw something down the well." Said Elrond, who was voice number one, wryly.

"And so our wonderful and faultless Lord of Imladris leaned over too far. I tried to catch him, and well…" the blonde elf raised his hands in a helpless gesture.

"It's lucky there's only three of us or we wouldn't have room to sit." Estel scooted closer to the grimy wall.

"Oh, were you expecting company?" inquired Glorfindel, with more than a little bit of impudence.

"Uh…I hope not." The ranger rubbed his jaw nervously, "But I DID tell Legolas where I was going."

Elrond and Glorfindel declined to comment, their looks saying everything they felt about THAT. Glorfindel attempted to move closer to his area of the wall and ended up kicking Elrond's foot.

"Who did that?" asked the elf-lord, even in the dark the other two could tell he was giving them the 'eyebrow'.

"Estel, don't kick your father." Estel stuck his tongue out at Glorfindel, who was smiling innocently.

The blonde elf kept grinning at the ranger, but kicked Elrond's foot again, a little harder this time.

"ESTEL!" growled the recipient of the well-aimed boot, "Don't do that!"

This was repeated several times with increasing displays of hostility from Elrond, who's ankle was becoming quite sore by now. Estel, on the other hand, had finally decided that "All's fair" and began kicking for himself, which he glibly blamed on Glorfindel. Before long, Elrond started kicking back.

"Ow!"

"Hey!"

"Stop that"

"You first!"

"It wasn't me!"

"Was too!"

"Ouch!"

"You're being immature."

"So are you."

"I'm allowed to be."

"So'm I!"

"I'm the Lord of Rivendell, and I therefore decree that you are NOT allowed to be immature."

"Hypocrite."

"Dictator."

"Child."

"I'm older than you."

"You also died. I caught up. So there. Besides, I was referring to Estel."

"Owwww…"

The last came from Estel as he was pinned to the wall by Glorfindel's boot. It was by now getting very dark and it was hard for the three to tell exactly whom and where they were aiming their feet at anymore.

"I now see the meaning of 'Two's company, three's a crowd.'" grunted the ranger, "Now if you'd be so kind, could somebody…"he examined the boot on his chest "Glorfindel I believe, please remove your foot from my person?"

"Sorry Estel, wasn't aiming for you."

Elrond kicked him.

"Ouch! Watch where you put that, I may actually want to sit down tomorrow." The blonde elf rubbed the sore spot gently, "That hurt!"

"It was supposed too." Stated Elrond calmly, giving Glorfindel The Eyebrow.

"Oh really?" there was a twinkle in the big elf's eye that boded no good for the Peredhel. He glanced at Aragorn, "Care to help me teach your Ada a thing or two?"

The response was a grin and a VERY enthusiastic nod from the young man.

Elrond backed up as far as the close quarters would allow, holding his hands in front of him defensively. "You wouldn't dare…"

Glorfindel exchanged glances with his partner in crime, both smiled, "Oh yes we would."

A short scuffle ensued, with the Peredhel cursing and yelling at his son and seneschal. When things finally settled down, Elrond's outer robe was now decorating him in a different fashion. The elf-lord was securely bound and gagged, courtesy of Glorfindel and Aragorn. He was also giving a baleful stare accompanied by The Eyebrows towards the two other occupants of the small hole who were grinning at him smugly. Not that any of them could see very well at this point. But there was a general aura of hostility coming from Elrond's direction, so they could make a fairly good guess as to the looks directed at them, and the implied threats therein.

"I'm sure they've turned all of Rivendell out to look for us by now." Mused Glorfindel.

"Probably." Aragorn was lounging against the wall, his chin resting on one knee. "Not that their likely to find us."

Elrond said something behind his gag.

"What was that?" asked the blonde elf.

Aragorn cocked his head, "It sounded like 'agrumphing gendor abrog shaer vu shies shup fizzord.'"

Glorfindel reached over and undid the gag, "Now try that again, old boy."

Elrond cleared his throat, "I said, 'A fitting end for a Balrog-slayer who ties up his Lord'! We will probably starve to death in a well not a mile from the house! What on earth are the tales going to say about that, I wonder?"

"I could start composing a lay." Offered Glorfindel hopefully.

"NOOOOOOO!" Aragorn and Elrond both shook their heads vigorously, the ranger stood ready to clap his hand over the blonde's mouth should he even attempt such a feat.

He gave an exaggerated sigh, "Oh well, your loss."

"I'm sure the literary world will be devastated." Muttered Elrond.

"What? Can't he rhyme?" asked Aragorn, who'd never heard anything by Glorfindel.

"Rhyming isn't his problem. It's simply the content we worry about." The Lord of Rivendell shook his head.

"What's wrong with my content?" demanded the large elf, who, then, to prove that nothing indeed was wrong with his compositions, burst into song.

"_Oh we three, trapped in a well,_

_Where we all so clumsily fell,_

_There'll be tales and there'll be songs,_

_How these three righted many a wrong._

_But the tales all end like this my friend,_

_Of how they met their tragic end._

_All due to the bumbling of the lord,_

_Whom they had obeyed, every word._

"Why do I doubt that?" grumbled Elrond.

_So they'll starve in a little hole. _

_Don't they wish that they were moles?_

_To dig out of this damp dark well._

_Where they all so clumsily fell._

"I swear I'm going to strangle him when I get loose." Muttered the bedraggled elf-lord.

"Need any help?" Estel moved over and started untangling his father. All unaware of the plot to silence him, the Balrog-slayer sang on.

_No more will we bravely go,_

_No more sally forth to slay the foe,_

_For instead here, in the mold and grime,_

_We'll be stuck 'till the end of time._

_The death of so brave lords as we,_

_Seems here to be silly to me,_

_That they should meet their end,_

_Not in the places they defend,_

_But in the bottom of a well, _

_Where the rats and lizards dwell._

_Oh what a tale I have to tell,_

_Here in the bottom of a well._

_That we who-"_

Estel had by this time gotten Elrond loose, which had been a fairly hard task since Glorfindel, who though apparently could not add the composition of a decent lay to his long list of talents, could tie an extremely decent knot. But as soon as he'd had the opportunity, the Peredhel had tackled the aspiring poet. They used his robes to effectively silence and still Glorfindel. The robes were by now so grubby that they were not good for much else.

So it was the Balrog-Slayer's turn to glare. During his enforced silencing, his hair had gotten somewhat tussled and not draped over one eye, giving him a roguish look. And since all he could do at the moment was glare, that seemed to suit him very well.

Just then, a strange noise sounded from somewhere within the confines of the well.

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"Glorfindel, was that you?" asked Estel, but the blonde shook his head adamantly.

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"You?" the ranger pointed at Elrond, but he denied it as well.

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Then suddenly, their eyes turned suspiciously to the young man. "Hey, don't look at me!" He protested.

Elrond felt something go 'plunk' on his head, and Glorfindel started to giggle behind his gag. The Lord of Imladris was not amused, "What's so funny?"

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"Nice hat, Ada." Remarked Estel, pointing to the little green frog that had perched atop the elf-lord's head.

Elrond reached up slowly, and when his hand came in contact with the slippery little creature, he jerked away, "Yipes!"

The frog, scared half out of his wits by the alarmed elf, leapt into the air. Estel deftly captured the animal and held it gently. "Aw, you scared it."

"I scared it?" the elf's voice was slightly hysterical, "I SCARED IT! THAT DUMB THING SCARED ME!"

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Glorfindel at this point had done a semi-acrobatic feat and removed the gag partially from his mouth, "I think he's rather cute."

"Cute?" echoed Estel, "Did I just hear you say cute?"

"So, what's wrong with that?"

the human gestured helplessly, "It's…It's a GIRLY word!"

"Is not."

"Is too"

"Is not"

"Too"

"Not"

"Too"

"AHEM!" Elrond cleared his throat loudly, as he gave them the inevitable eyebrow. "Are you children done yet?"

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"If I'm a child…" Glorfindel leaned closer to Elrond, "Then what are you?"

"An elf with considerably more maturity."

The blonde rolled his eyes. Turning, he held out his hand to Aragorn, "Let me see the frog."

Estel gingerly handed him the creature, "I think he needs a name."

"How about Ducky?" ventured the Balrog-Slayer.

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Aragorn shook his head, "What kind of a stupid name is that? Let's name him Bob."

Elrond sighed and knocked his head against the wall…repeatedly.

Glorfindel didn't like the idea, "Ducky. It's cute."

Estel glowered, "You used THAT WORD AGAIN! And it's BOB!"

"Ducky."

"Bob"

"ducky"

"BOB!"

"DUCKY!" the blonde elf lunged forward, until his forehead nearly touched the human's, the man giggled nervously.

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"Fine…whatever you say…"

There was a long silence after this, broken only by the rare, random giggle. At this point, Elrond, being a healer, noticed that there was something extremely erratic about the behavior of his companions and, he suspected, himself. He began to wonder if perhaps there was something in the air. After all, they were down a well.

That was when the first of the searchers found them.

"Hello? Is anybody there?"

Glorfindel peered upwards, "I say, Erestor…is that you?"

"Glorfindel? Where are you?" the councilor sounded like he was right on top of them.

"Don't go any further! There's a um…hole here…" the warning was heeded, "An old well. Right in front of you. I'm down here."

Leaning over the opening, the black-haired councilor chuckled, "My friend, only you…"

"But it's not only me!" protested the blonde, "I invited Lord Elrond and one of his sons down for tea!"

"How did you- No wait…don't tell me. I really feel I don't want to know. Let me go get you some help."

"Just don't trip, old boy. I'd not enjoy your company. I'd have invited you, but space was limited you understand." The elf apologized, "Of course…if you really want too…" he left the offer open.

"That's really all right, old friend." Erestor declined hastily, "There are several more pleasant things I can think of doing. Reorganizing the entire library comes to mind."

"Spoilsport." The blonde pouted, "You missed a great party. I was the main entertainment."

The raven-haired elf rolled his eyes, "So sorry I missed it. I'm sure you'll forgive me if I prefer to hear Lindir's love poetry."

"Oh is that who's been writing?" asked Estel, "Arwen accused ME of writing that awful stuff!"

Erestor winced, "Glad I missed that conversation."

"It's a wonder any of the furniture is intact…" mused Glorfindel.

"Be nice." Chided Elrond, "I don't mind if you torment my seneschal, but please leave my daughter out of it."

The black-haired elf shrugged, "Very well, but if I do say so, My Lord, she is rather spirited."

"And rambunctious." Added Glorfindel.

"May I mention," broke in Elrond, "You are in a much more dangerous position than your friend up there."

"garrulous."

Not to be outdone, the blonde continued, "Annoyingly persistent."

"And she nags!" They finished in chorus.

Elrond kicked Glorfindel's ankle again…

"Pardon me, Erestor, I have to go punish the Lord of Rivendell. So go run along and be a good boy."

The aforementioned Lord kicked the blonde's ankle once more.

Estel started giggling.

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"Glorfindel?"

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Erestor decided that at least one of those trapped down the well had gone stark raving mad from the confinement. He hurriedly gathered up his robes and scurried back towards Rivendell. Hoping to get someone before Glorfindel did something violent he would regret later.

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"Let me get this straight." Elladan was trying to listen to Erestor, who was babbling madly about something. "Ada and Estel are trapped with a mad elf?"

The frustrated councilor flopped down in a chair, shaking his head.

"Calm down, Erestor. Tell me niiiiiiiiiice and sloooooooow………"

A sound that reminded the twin very much of a growl proceeded from the chair, and the usually mild-mannered councilor sprang up and tackled Elladan.

"Your-ada-and-estel-and-glorfindel-are-trapped-in-a-well-and-we-need-to-get-them-out! All right?"

"Uh, why, Erestor, why didn't you say so?"

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When they finally retrieved the threesome out from the bottom of the well. Both Glorfindel and Elrond had a black eye, and appeared to be drunk, though no one really had any explanation for that. Estel was giggling insanely, and clutching a small green frog. None of them had very much in the way of coherency.

Of course, it was early morning by this time, and no one, having been out searching all night. Was in any mood to deal with anything beyond breakfast and a nice nap.

Of course, nothing is ever that easy.

Elrond was lounging in a chair, still trying to sleep of the aftereffects of his confinement. Which, he could only assume, was caused by some sort of gas inside the well. There was no other reason for such odd behavior. But he was still having trouble thinking.

"Sir, there's an envoy from Gondor here to see you. A knight."

To his utter embarrassment, Elrond found that he was still not in full control of his mind and body when his sentence came out, "I don't wanna see any Gondorian kniggit…."

The elf blinked at him, "Uh, all right sir…I'll have him wait."

But that was nothing compared to the next day.

They had decided that, to welcome the Gondorian envoy, and to cheer everyone up, they would have a night of feasting and singing. The entertainment was loosely planned, which was usually no trouble, since there are many elves skilled in singing and other musical interests. But when Glorfindel stood up, Elrond wished very fervently that he had written up a strict schedule.

The Balrog-slayer tossed a mischievous smirk in his lord's direction. "Friends, most of you have heard of the mishap that befell myself and two others this week."

There were nods and giggles. Estel shifted nervously in his seat beside Elrond.

"I have therefore decided to present you with a song that is commemorative of this unusual event."

This was met with a combination of laughter, clapping, and groaning.

Glorfindel cleared his throat and straightened his tunic.

Elrond leaned over to Aragorn, "What's say you and I make a back exit while there's still time."

The ranger shot a nervous glance around the room…

Glorfindel started…

"_Oh we three, trapped in a well,_

_Where we all so clumsily fell…"_

Aragorn grabbed his father's hand and they scrambled from their places, sneaking out the back way.

Glorfindel resisted the urge to grin as he saw them go.

He knew the twins and Legolas were waiting outside.

Finis 


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